Page 28 of Like a Hurricane

“Tell whatever excuse you need to, to be able to sleep at night. We both know the truth.”

“And what truth is that, Everett?” She stops at the bathroom door and spins towards me.

“That you want me regardless of what you know. Don’t worry, princess. I’m a patient man, I can wait. But can you?”

“Asshole,” She mutters to herself as she closes the bathroom door.

Her fork scrapes across the plate as she moves the same piece of bacon from one side to the other for the hundredth time.

“You have to eat.” I mutter.

“Why are you doing this?” She drops the fork and levels me with her glacial stare.

“Because I am keeping you safe, princess.”

“From what?” She snaps.

“Your father…” I sigh, “He died.”

“I am aware,” Her voice comes out thick as if fighting a lump in her throat, “He was murdered. Did you have something to do with that!?”

“I was workingwithyour father, not against him.”

I didn’t know how much to tell her; did I want to mar whatever image she had of Victor? Did she know what he was up to behind those office doors? I was guessing not.

“And you happened to be there at the same time he died?” She crosses her arms, wincing, “It’s funny how you just show up, oh wait,” she clicks her fingers, feigning surprise, “You were following me. That’s right, you’re a damn stalker so I shouldn’t be surprised you were there, right?”

“Funnily enough, Arryn, I wasn’t there for you, but it was adelightfulsurprise.”

“Delightful?” She twists her mouth in disgust, “My father and another man are dead, and you think this situation is delightful?”

“There is beauty in death, princess. Let’s not forget that.”

“There is nothing beautiful about this, Everett. You’re a sick man. Get help.”

She doesn’t wait for me to respond; she gets up from the table and shuts herself in the bedroom. With a sigh I drop my head into my hands, rubbing at the tension headache I feel blooming behind my eyes.

She was stubborn, bratty, and angry. There would be no getting through to her right now. She still had to process her dad’s death, still had to grieve and on top of that, I had to explain why exactly I brought her here.

Sure, I was selfish in most of my reasoning, but Iwastrying to keep her safe.

No one would look for her here. No one would suspect I took her.

And until I could figure out how to remove the hit from her head, this would be where she remained.

The Wares are smart, I’d checked every few hours looking for a trace of them, but they’d remained silent and invisible since the attack at the restaurant. I had to wonder what connections they had to pull that off, who they had in their pockets to keep their records clean that not even I, could see that coming.

They didn’t look like killers and yet I was proven wrong and that very rarely happens.

I log into my computer an hour later, checking the open hit on Arryn’s head. Another guy had accepted the job after the last one was found dead and the clock for him was running out. That was standard on these kinds of hits, a week to get the job done and proof of completion before any money is paid and this guy had five days, twelve hours and exactly six minutes to complete before someone else can try their hand.

I didn’t know who Arryn’s current hitman was, that information wasn’t freely available on this database, since, according to the organizations rules, it could jeopardize their mission if another wanted the job and had lost out.

The men and women who worked like this were ruthless, and not one of us were afraid of taking out the competition if it meant a hefty paycheck at the end of it.

My brothers and I had worked for the organization for a long time, trained by our own father, who was one of the best in the game before his own death. Torin retired a little over five years ago, Kolten, our adoptive brother has been AWOL for God knows how long, and then there’s me who will likely never leave the game.

Picking up my phone, I step outside and dial my brother.

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